


Always

by Kira_Gold



Series: like you need it to survive [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (aka Hercules'), 2nd person POV, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, because i am a sucker for fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_Gold/pseuds/Kira_Gold
Summary: It takes you three months of friendship, seven sleepovers at each other’s dorms and about fifty dollars spent on red wine to find out that John Laurens’ wrists are painfully-blank.





	

**Author's Note:**

> How is mute!Alex not a tag yet? Writing angst on it especially could be pretty cool... *jots down ideas*  
> (Also was posted in a hurry, so if there are any mistakes please point them out!)

You meet your soulmate when both of you are fifteen. 

You always thought that in order to find someone who would yell “Oh what the hell!” at you in French you would have to, well, _go to France_ , and so when you accidentally trip a guy who is carrying a mug of (thankfully, cold) tea, you barely pay any attention to the language he is speaking. 

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I will pay you for the shirt. Or just make you another one.” 

And the next thing you know is that he is staring at you, his eyes wide, and then rolls up the sleeve of his (now ruined by the said cold tea) shirt. 

“I can’t believe the first thing my soulmate does to me is make me spill tea all over myself,” he sighs with an obvious French accent, and that is when it hits you. 

“Oh my god,” you exhale, and then he grabs your hand and shakes it, smirking

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. But you can call me Laf, if you so wish.”

“Hercules Mulligan,” you smile at him and can’t help but chuckle softly when he pulls you into a hug. “And I definitely am making you a new shirt.”

The two of you click together instantly. Before that you haven’t given much thought to the soulmate thing – so what if there is a person out there whom you are destined to love and be together with forever and stuff? You had classes to pass, hobbies to do, friends to go out with and so on. Your mother just laughed at your words when you said it. “You will understand when you meet them,” she replied every single time. And oh did you. 

You and Lafayette could finish each other’s sentences, you made the same gestures, you liked the same kind of music and read the same kind of books. Not to say you didn’t have your differences, of course: he loved romantic comedies while you were always more of an action-y kind of guy, he studied linguistics when you both went to college while you’ve settled on textile design, he was outgoing and overly enthusiastic at times while you usually preferred peace and quiet. And yet despite all the differences and thanks to all the similarities – or thanks to all the differences and despite all the similarities, you don’t know – you two fell so deep in love there still is no way back. And you couldn’t have been happier. 

Not to say you don’t fight now and then, not to say there were never situations in your lives when you yelled at Lafayette as loud as you could and he threw cups at you, crashing the expensive porcelain against the walls. Not to say you weren’t both a little overdramatic at times, not to say there wasn’t jealously or attempts to make the other one jealous. And yet you always made up. He rested his head on your shoulder, apologies mixing with sobs in his voice, and you wrapped your arms around him, whispering something in his ear. And these moments were worth every single fight you had. 

You’ve met your soulmate when you were fifteen and you were happy ever since. 

And then you met John Laurens. 

Not to say either of you fell in love with him like it happens in those romances Laf so enjoys watching, God forbid. You still love Laf as much as you did before you met the biology student hanging out outside the university campus, if not more, and you are fairly sure the same goes for Lafayette. But John managed to become your second closest person in life, and that is saying a lot. His dorm is right next to the one you and Laf share, he sometimes brings you coffee and breakfast because being an exemplary student he actually goes to bed relatively early and manages to wake up on time, you three always hang out together in the hours free from lectures. Laurens may not be your soulmate, but he sure as hell quickly becomes your best friend. 

(Speaking of which.)

At one point you ask John whether he has still not met his “one and only”, and he replies with a nervous chuckle and a shrug, which you interpret as “not yet” and drop the subject almost instantly. If Lafayette had been there, he would probably push it further, but you were never the one to intrude on anyone’s personal life. Laurens almost seems grateful. 

It takes you three months of friendship, seven sleepovers at each other’s dorms and about fifty dollars spent on red wine to find out that John Laurens’ wrists are painfully-blank. 

“Yup,” he laughs drunkenly. “Don’t have one. ‘M fucking defective, man!” 

“Don’t say that!” Lafayette frowns. “I’m pretty sure ‘s just some eps… explainable mistake, like… maybe, um…” 

“If you think I haven’t thought of it before you’re very wrong,” John sighs, interrupting him. “Nah, I’ve accepted it. Like, I know it would be real nice, you guys babble to me ‘bout each other all the time and stuff, but like… I don’t have a soulmate. Whatever, I will live. Done. Period.”

Next morning you can barely remember having the conversation, but the unusual blankness of John’s wrists stands clearly before you. He asks you to just forget it, and even Laf lowers his head in agreement. After all, what can you say? In a world where everyone has a certain someone in store for them, those who suddenly don’t feel like a defective jigsaw piece. 

John does a very good job of hiding the fact that it bothers him. He makes friends, he flirts with girls and guys, he wakes you up at three in the morning because there is a rock concert on the other side of the town and he has so many hobbies you give up on keeping track. 

And yet he never wears short-sleeved clothing. He talks to people so much, hoping that one of the things he says will match up with writing on another person’s wrist and then there will be a sudden logical explanation for why are there no words printed on his own. He sometimes gives you and Laf this look… It isn’t envy. But it’s very close.

Yes, he does a very good job of pretending he doesn’t care. But you have known him for too long to fall for it. 

And that – your third year in university, your ninth year together with Lafayette and your second – of having John Laurens as a friends – is when you meet Alexander Hamilton.

He shows up in the university one day, a pencil behind his ear, a notebook in his hand and a red bag on his shoulder. He gapes at every building and looks so lost the first moment you see him that you can’t help but chuckle and then come up to him, offering help. 

“I know this place can be kind of a labyrinth most of the time.” 

His eyes light up as he nods excitedly, making a few hand gestures and then snorting in annoyance, and opens his notebooks, quickly scribbling down some words. 

_“Yes please!”_ you read. _”I’m looking for a law classroom if you know where that is?”_. 

“Of course,” you raise your eyebrows. “And, you can, like, speak, you know.” 

He smirks. 

_“No I can’t.”_

“Oh!” It is then when it finally hits you that he probably would not write his responses down if he actually _could_. “Fuck. Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be offensive or anything, I just–“

 _“It’s fine, dw,”_ he notes, shoving the notebook in your face. _“My lecture is in like 10m so I have time still. What’s your name?”_

“Hercules Mulligan,” you grin kind of awkwardly. “Although you can call me Herc if you want to, most people do anyways.”

For a second he stares at you with some unrecognizable emotion, then claps his hands and rolls up the black sleeve of his jumper. _“Oh, you must be the new guy Herc has been blabbering about! Alex, is it?”_ , you read in the same beautiful indented font in which Laf’s words are printed on your own wrist, then look at him excitedly. 

“Oh, wow. I guess I should go blabber to some people about you?” you ask as he giggles silently. “But first I probably need to show you where your lesson is. Alex, huh. That’s a nice name.”

It is quite surprising how quickly can this guy write, you notice, although being mute probably helped perfecting that skill. On first impression he is also really fun to have conversations with and you feel like he would definitely get along with your friends, although it is not like one of them will be his soulmate, because Laf has you, of course, and John–

And John… 

Oh. 

You stop in the middle of the pathway when it finally clicks, and Alex looks at you questioningly. You can’t help the wide smile appearing on your face as the excitement floods in. How come you were so fucking stupid? Of course there could have been no first words if one’s twin soul was _mute_! 

“I think I know who your soulmate is,” you exhale. Alexander tilts his head interestedly. 

_“Well, I’m afraid I won’t be skipping class for it, but introduce us as soon as we are both free!”_ he jots down, and you want to argue, saying that why the hell would some lecture matter if you could meet the love of your life here and now, but then remember that John may or may not have a biology test today in the morning which he definitely wouldn’t want to miss and sigh. 

“Yeah, okay, fine, that makes sense. Give me your phone number though so I can text you or something!”

He does, and in about two more minutes you reach your destination. Alex thanks you – you can’t read lips, of course, but “Thank you” is a very recognizable phrase – and enters the room. 

“See you at lunch!” you call after him. He nods. 

The whole day after that you precisely blabber about him to both John and Laf. Both look at you in surprise, because in all honesty you are not the person who gets excited over little things, and Lafayette even says something along the lines of “I hope you didn’t find me a replacement, mon amour!”. “I wish,” you snort and he hits you jokingly on the hand. 

And that is when Alexander Hamilton finally finds the table at which you were sitting in the cafeteria and taps your shoulder uncertainly. You turn around. 

“Oh – hi! Sit down with us, unless you have found some other people to eat with in law!” you offer and he nods happily, accepting. Johns opens his mouth about to say something and you can’t help but stare at him expectantly, dangling your leg under the table. 

“Oh, you must be the new guy Herc has been blabbering about! Alex, is it?” he smiles and you squeal excitedly. He turns to you with a quizzical expression while Alexander looks at him with surprise. 

“Yup,” you chuckle and really can’t help but burst out laughing at everyone’s faces, resting your head on the table. Laurens shoots Alex an apologetic gaze. 

“Sorry, he’s not usually this weird.”

Instead of answering (which, of course, makes sense), Hamilton rolls up his sleeve and shows John the words written on it. Now even Lafayette stares at you in confusion, Laurens himself though looks… bluntly at a loss. 

“I–I’m sorry,” he mutters. “There must be some mistake, I don’t–”

“Oh for god’s sake, he is mute!” you interrupt, unable to further spectate this ridiculousness and finally managing to calm down. Then you turn to John, watching in amusement how his eyes slowly widen. “And _he_ has no words on his wrist, which is now totally explainable!”

Silence falls on your table for a few long seconds; then Laf bites his lips and mumbles with a growing grin:

“Oh mon Dieu.”

And then Alexanders starts scribbling something down furiously, and you even catch the sight of the beginning of the paragraph, which goes something like _“I guess that makes a lot of sense now that I think about it, because I have always wondered about the phenomenon such as soulmates where the first words are not, to some extent, possible, and if for example”_ , but then Laurens grabs the notebook out of his hands and whispers:

“Can we discuss it later?” 

And Alex smiles softly, pulling him into a hug. You are fairly certain John is sobbing as he tugs the fabric of Alex’ jumper, crumpling it under his fingers, but it is perfectly understandable – who wouldn’t be, after all. Two jigsaw puzzles are finally put together and you can’t help but feel exceptionally happy, knowing that you played at least some part in it. 

“Well,” you shrug, taking Laf’s hand. “We’ll be somewhere around.”

“Probably making out,” Lafayette adds with a chuckle and John laughs, his voice muffled as he tightens the hug:

“Just go, guys.”

Alex tugs the back of John’s shirt, closing his eyes with happiness written in block letters all over his face, and you smile at them before Laf finally leads you away from the cafeteria, leaving the two alone. 

“Told you everything will be okay,” he whispers and you laugh softly. 

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any pairing/situation prompts for me, leave them in the comments below!


End file.
